Young and Wasted
by Dajypop
Summary: The boys get to go on a road trip to visit Kenny's cousin in California and each can bring one friend. Yaoi, Het, partying. StanWendy, ChristopheKyle, Bunny, eventual CartmanOC
1. Kings of California

**Title: Young and Wasted**

**Author: Lacey**

**Rating: M (For later chapters)**

**Pairings: Bunny, Standy, Myle, and CartmanHand, EVENTUAL CartmanOC**

**Summary: The boys get to go on a road trip to visit Kenny's cousin in California and each can bring one friend.**

**Warnings: Yaoi, Butters POV**

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**Chapter One: I'm The King of California, Straight Outta South Park**

I was so excited when Kenny told me about it. I remember his exact words, down to the T.

_"Butters!" He exclaimed as soon as I opened the front door for him. He tackled me to the floor, "We gotta free ride, dude!" He cried, happily explaining the 'free ride' to my parents an' me._

_"So, my uncle Felix is real sick, an' my cousin Jessica needs some help around the house. Stan, Kyle, an' Cartman's parents said they'd help pay, an' Jess sent some money for me to be able to go...an' we're each allowed to bring one friend. We got two cars...and I was hoping Butters could come with me."_

_"Where are you going, exactly?" My mother had asked, raising a brow. However, with the look on Kenny's face, she looked very liable to let me go._

_"California. San Francisco." He replied nonchalantly, an' I smiled a little. I'd get to see some of the country! I've never been out of South Park willingly, so this would be great!_

_"Mm..." My parents looked at one another, their eyes sending hidden text messages before my mother spoke up again. "Alright, Kenneth, you're welcome to take our little Leopald." While I hate it when _she_ says it, hearing Kenny repeat it under his breath is a nice change. _

That had been a few days ago. Today, Saturday, was the first day we were heading on the trip. Everyone had gotten up early; there was me an' Kenny, Stan, Wendy, Kyle, Christophe, an' Cartman. Everyone asked why Cartman didn't have a friend, but I'm pretty sure it's because they were teasin' him.

"Pfft. Cartman ain't bringin' a friend coz he doesn't _have_ any past us." Kenny told me as he packed up the trunk of his old car. Nobody knew the make or model, but that was okay. It ran, an' that was enough for us. We'd packed for a month each, an' we were all glad Stan had a truck. The only problem was how many people we had, an' how to figure out who was driving an' who would sit where. We were having an argument about it, now.

"Well, I'll only sit next to Stan." Wendy put in, hands on her hips an' weight on one leg.

"I want a weendow." Christophe added, a cigarette already between his lips, in the process of having its life snuffed out.

"I want by 'Tophe." That was Kyle, who never let us forget that his boyfriend could kill an' eat any of us at any time.

"I want as far away from Jew boy as possible." Cartman made a face at the other, only stopping when he realized that Christophe was staring at him so frighteningly.

"I'd...like to ride with Kenny." I offered softly, only to get a sneer from Cartman.

"No, you want to _ride_ Kenny." But, of course, my Orange Knight hit him square in the chest so that he was winded, an' wrapped an arm around me comfortingly. I snuggled into the embrace an' we finally decided where everyone was going to sit. Kyle would drive Kenny's car, Christophe got shotgun, an' Kenny an' I would be in the back. Stan, Wendy an' Cartman would take the truck, because nobody in our car was ready to deal with his problems so early in the morning. So everyone said their goodbyes to their families an' we headed out, seven teens going on the road for the biggest road trip of our lives. It was the summer leading into our Senior year, so why not spend it having some fun?

"You know, my uncle's totally fine." Kenny told me, as I lay my head in his lap. He pet my hair gently, "We're not even really goin' to see my cousin. Just gonna party for a month, it'll be great." He offered, looking down at me. My clear blue eyes smiled up at him, as well as my lips.

"Sounds like fun, Kenny." I hear his stomach growl right against the back of my head an' I roll over, my knees up against the back of the car seat. "Aw, someone didn't eat breakfast."

"Do I ever?" Kenny questioned me, an' I hear Christophe in the front.

"I deed not eat, eizer...per'aps we zould stop at a MeekDonalds?" He offered, getting a scrunched up, sour looking face from Kyle.

"Ew, no. I wouldn't touch that place with a thirty nine and a half foot pole." He complained, "Can we go somewhere healthier? Maybe Wendy's?"

"Wendy's in the other car, Kyle." I yawn, only to get a chuckle out of the smoking Frenchman in the front.

"Eet es a restaurant, Bootters." He offered; I always liked the way he said my name, I thought it made me sound exotic.

"Sounds good to me." I hear an' feel my love say, an' I nuzzle into his thin stomach.

"Works for me, too." A phone is tossed at my head, an' we get orders from Kyle.

"Call Stan and tell him to follow us into Wendy's."

Kenny picked up the phone an' hit speed dial, waiting for someone to answer.

"Hey, Wendy..yeah, nobody in this car ate...same there? ....oh, God. Cartman _would_ bitch about that....yeah, we're goin' to Wendy's....the restaurant." With that, the two hung up, but not before we all heard Stan say a loud 'Wendy's? Kyle's pick, huh?' We all knew the Jew too well, it seemed.

An' it was like this that my first experience leaving Colorado began. It was beautiful; I'd never even seen this much, an' despite it being rocky an' pretty much the same patch of trees over an' over an' over again, I certainly didn't mind. Especially not with Kenny stroking my hair or holding my hand the entire time. An' I do find Ze Mole to be pretty funny, sometimes, too.

"Look out, Ky-el. You might heet zat piece of papeer." He said sarcastically, at one point, because Kyle had had us on 'Deer Watch' for a good twenty minutes. "Do not be zo paranoid."

The ride went on for a while after we got breakfast, an' we only stopped again for lunch. This time, instead of just getting it to go, we all got out of the cars an' stretched, moving around an' talking amongst ourselves. Cartman continued to try to get in on the conversations, but we all did a good job an' made a good effort to ignore him. He'd whine an' start acting like himself, soon enough.

"But _guys_~! I have an _ideaaaar_." We continued to ignore him an' discuss where to go for lunch. We decided on Taco Bell an' set about to getting there. It was nice to get out an' stretch, but once we were cooped back into the cars, I wasn't too upset. We got to Taco Bell a while later, an' once again it was everyone out. Christophe must have gone through _at least_ a pack an' a half of cigarettes, by now, but nobody seemed ready to stop him.

We all got our food and sat in groups of two to four; Kenny an' I were stuck with Cartman, because Stan, Wendy, Kyle and Christophe stole the booth. Of course, neither of us paid the other much mind, just eating and touching beneath the table. It was a nice feeling, being so close with Kenny for so long. It had been a good seven hours already, and I was so excited to keep going. I gobbled down everything as quickly as I could without getting a stomach ache, while Kenny savored having two meals in a day for the first time in a long time. I always tried to buy him food at home, but he always said he wasn't hungry, even though I knew he was.

By the time we got in another nine hours of driving in, I was plum tuckered out, and Kenny had been petting me for a while, as I drifted in and out of sleep. I yawned, when we got to the hotel, and he helped me out.

"Kay, guys.." That was Stan, "Let's do this sensibly. Wendy and I will share a room, Kenny, Butters, Kyle and Christophe will share a room, and Cartman gets his own room." Because nobody would trust him as they slept. We all agreed, except for Cartman, and ended up buying our rooms accordingly. It was a nice change, to be in a room with so many people. Kenny wasn't as frisky, either. And, as soon as we all had our showers, we were all asleep, curled up with our lovers. Except Cartman, who I swore was trying to make as much Hell as possible in the room above us.

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**AN: Alright, this was inspired by the song "Back To The Middle" by The Pink Spiders. :3 I came up with it on the way from bringing Lizzie home. :3 And you can give the credit for Beta-ing to her, because she's my beta no matter what. :3**


	2. Maybe I Got In A Fight

**AN: Hey, everyone! Here's the second chapter! 8D Yay! Day two of their road trip! Only three chapters for the driving. :3 All from the POV of the "friend" everyone got to bring along. I'm debating making Cartman bring Hennifer Lopess. :3 He totally would. And I can totally see it being like, "Yeah, well...welll, AH got a BLOWJOB." "...yeah? Who'd you rape?" "IT WASN'T RAPE KENNAY! It was Hennifer Lopess." "...you mean your hand...?" "*blush, flustered* NO! Ah mean! HENNIFER LOPESS." **

**Haha, anyways, warnings and then the chapter! 8D**

**Warnings: Catfight while driving, nudity, Wendy POV**

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**Chapter Two: Maybe I Got In A Fight**

I wake up slowly the next morning, and spare a glance at the glaring red numbers on the clock positioned a few feet away from my sleepy eyes. 5:37am. We wanted to leave around 6:30, so I figure it's time to get up and shower. I groan gently as I push myself up onto a sitting position, one hand on the plush mattress and the other pressing much lighter on dear Stanny's bare chest. I yawn and stretch until I hear a satisfying pop, and slowly shift myself out of the bed. It's cold, and I look down at my sleeping apparel. Oh, that could be why. A tank top that shows some of my midriff, and a pair of short shorts. I tug the shirt a little more over my rather large breasts; they're D's, but I'm not fat like Henrietta. I bend a little, doing a little bit of a stretch, before heading to the shower. I never shower at night because I wake up with my dark locks pressed up in all sorts of odd fashions, and that just isn't pretty. And, being the only girl on this trip, it's my job to look beautiful so the guys can look however they want. Even though I don't think Butters could look frumpy; he's just too cute, and with Kenny helping him dress...well, he always looked cute and sexy. Kind of rapeable, which is why I think Kenny's so protective of him.

But I change the subject mentally as I strip down for my shower, having all of my shower stuff in there already, as well as my tooth paste and tooth brush. After stripping down naked, I toss my hair out of my face a little before grabbing my tooth brush and covering it in the minty gel before wetting it and applying it greedily to my pearly whites. I stand there for two minutes, because I counted, brushing my teeth, tongue, and the roof of my mouth. Can't have any of that nasty morning breath, after all. Once I spit, rinse, and take care of any other unwanted odor with my Listerine, I happily bounce into the shower, smelling all minty fresh and delightful.

In the shower, I'm sure to wash my hair the longest, and drag my sweet-smelling soap all over my body, flicking sopping and soapy hair from my face. I have something of a fringe, now; a long one, and I don't use it like an 'emo' does. I just think it makes me look pretty. Soon enough, I'm out of the shower, after conditioning my hair to make it soft and shiny, and I'm toweling off my body with a towel-turban in my hair when I realize one crucial thing; I left my change of clothes in the room with Stan. We aren't a sexually active couple, because I told him that if he wants me that badly, he'd marry me. I don't care if we're too young, I love him, and I know he loves me, too. I sigh as I wrap the tiny towel around my body, and head out to get into my suitcase. I pull out some cute clothes and my unders, laying them out on the bed. First on is the hot pink boy shorts, then a pair of jeans that are tight in all the right places. I don't like closed-legged jeans much, so I only get them tight around my rump. Next are socks and then my black and pink checkered converse (I did the pink myself). When I look up at Stan, though, I see those crystalline blue eyes staring at me hungrily, a wide grin on his face. A deep blush overcomes mine and I quickly pull on my bra and green baby tee; it has the trashmonster from Sesame Street on it.

The way he looks at me, now, I kind of fear for my virginity.

"No, Stan.." My voice sounds beautiful, "If you got a Woody, go shower." He looks at me like I shouldn't talk like that, but I shrug and cross my arms, one finger managing to point at the bathroom. "Go on, you need a shower, anyway." He seems to pout a little as he gets up, his dark blue boxers shimmering a little in the light. He heads into the bathroom after pecking my cheek and mumbling a 'good morning'. Since I'm already dressed, I get up and head to the room next to us; Kyle, Kenny, Christophe and Butters' room. I knock on the door a little, and soon someone answers. The room is filled with smoke, and I think Butters is happy that he's able to breathe again. I look at the man who opened the door, because I can't see anyone calling him a boy, and note that Christophe is already dressed and looks like he's been up all night.

"Morning, boys!" I greet jovially, only to get a grunt from Ze Mole, who lets me in.

"Ze zleepy 'ead won' wake up." He's referring to Kenny. As I look around the room, I notice a mostly naked Butters sitting up beside Kenny, pulling the covers up over his body self-consciously. I smile a little and look down at Kenny, who's out with his arm around Butters, face down. When I look at the table, I notice Kyle; and then I see something that threw me so off guard that I nearly cried out.

"Kyle?!" I question, eyes wide, and he immediately looks at me and snuffs out the cigarette in his hand. He's always been so against smoking that I have no idea why he would want to in the first place. The Frenchman beside me pauses, then speaks.

"Wendy..'e 'as only 'ad un." He offers, as if trying to somehow console me. I don't think it worked, before I whirled around and headed back into Stan and I's room.

"Stan! _Stan_!" I cry, only to come in with him half-dressed, just now finishing tugging his jeans up.

"What is it, Wen?" He questions groggily, looking at me sleepily, like he'd rather go back to bed.

"Kyle was _smoking_, Stan!" He looks at me sheepishly, glances away, then looks back slowly.

"Yeah...'Tophe got him smoking a few weeks ago. Don't talk about it. He doesn't chain smoke like Chris does...seriously. He has one, maybe two a day. And only in the morning, and he saves the other for when he's away but his parents are driving him nuts." He talks like it's no big deal. He ushers me to get packed and I do so slowly, sighing a little. I hear a sudden yelp from the boys' room, and I smirk. Must've been time to wake Kenny up, and it sounds like a dog pile.

Soon enough, we all head to the cars and decide on the same seating arrangements as before, but somehow we notice we're missing a whiny pain in the ass.

"Where's Cartman?" Butters asks softly, and I see Kenny facepalm.

"Um...I guess we gotta go wake him up." The taller blond offers. Now that I look at him, Kenny is probably one of the tallest in our group; he and Christophe, then Stan, then Cartman, Kyle and Butters. I fall somewhere between Kyle and Cartman. Poor Butters. Anyway, we watch as Kenny takes Butters up the stairs, picks him up and slams him into Cartman's door, kissing the smaller blond loudly and making a regular show of it. They both fall forward when an angry fat Cartman opens up the door, yelling indistinctly at the two. The only things I can make out is 'Kennay, Fag, and OFF.' Kenny and Butters don't seem to care much, because I hear the little blond moan a little, and finally Cartman clamps his hands over his eyes and backs back into the room.

"Ah'm up! Ah'm up!" He cries, heading to get dressed. Apparently he took a shower the night before. Butters and Kenny come down, the shorter blond in the other's grip, and they look so cute. Butters' blush has crept up to his ears and down to his neck, which I notice now has a dark red mark on it. He seems uncomfortable, too; he and Kenny must have gotten pretty frisky.

Soon enough, we were all packed away in our cars after deciding to go to McDonald's for breakfast, since it was close and cheap. We drove through the drive thru, everyone just getting something they could hold and eat, except for Cartman. He wanted eggs and pancakes and bacon, which made sitting next to him as he ate living Hell. I hate him, and I question why he's even on the trip; but then I remember that it's because his mom put forth a large sum of money, and nobody was going to turn that away with him. I sigh heavily, leaning a bit on Stan to get away from the sticky mess that is his 'friend'. More like a mooch. He only paid for his hotel room, so far. Cartman's stubbornness usually beat out Stan's patience, so he ended up paying for all meals.

However, once we were on the road, I decided to just watch the scenery, look at what I could and even take some pictures on my phone. I have a nice one; my parents get me nice things. Stan and I cuddle as he drives, and I think that Cartman's getting sick of it when he randomly slaps my shoulder. I sit up a bit.

"Excuse you." I snap, but he just looks at me challengingly. He hits me again, this time with a little 'ahh!' noise. I growl a little and slap him back, making sure my finely manicured nails slip harshly across his face.

"You _bitch_." He cries, hitting me again. Soon, we're grabbing and pulling hair, slapping and hitting, kicking and full on arguing, and we find that Stan pulls over on the side of the road. Someone comes up and opens the door on Cartman's side, and then Stan kicked us both out onto the side of the road. We land in grass, and it's _on_. The two of us are all-out fighting, with him on the losing side and my victory rapidly approaching. However, now it's time for Kenny and Christophe to pull us off of each other, and a new decision is made.

"Wendy, Christophe and Kyle are gonna ride with us, now, kay?" Stan offers, and I nod a little, trying to adjust myself a little. I brush my hands through my hair and sigh, climbing back in with Stan. Kyle sits beside me, and Chris is at the window, smoking away. He sure goes through cigarettes fast. I look in the rear view mirror, and notice Kenny's driving with Butters safely beside him, Cartman in the back, seemingly annoying them both. Poor guys, I feel for them. Cartman can be a regular fat asshole, and nobody really wants to put up with him. Was the money worth it? Considering Kenny was the holder of it, I'd say it was for him. I don't think the poor guy's ever had so much money at his disposal in his life.

Around lunch time, we all pull into a local diner we've never heard of. It's got great food, though, as we soon discover. Cartman ordered at least three plates of the same thing, packing it down easily. Fatty.

Finally, we were back on the road, and nearly there. Stan says he'd figure the next day, we'd be there. But, they'd have to let Kenny's car go first, since he knew where they were going, tomorrow.

We finally made out way to a hotel for the night, around nine o'clock. We got our rooms, same as before, and everyone did their nightly routine before heading to bed. It had been a nice day, despite Cartman trying to ruin it for me, and I had had fun. I love being on the road!

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**AN: I hope that was okay? I liked writing it, but I dunno how many will be made from Wendy's POV. It was pretty fun, though. :3**


	3. Drive a Mile For All Our Sorrows

**AN: Woot, third chapter in two days! I'm really into this story, and hope to get through it alright. :3 This one I'm really going to try to finish, I have to get through it, because it would be so awesome to accomplish that. I know I'm terrible at it, but I'm also trying to give more worth-while chapters. :3 I just hope I have my loyal readers who will enjoy my hard work. **

**Warnings: Partial sex, Christophe POV, slight fluff**

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**Chapter Three: Drive A Mile For All Our Sorrows**

It was the beginning of a new day; Kyle lay in the bed alone, for I had gotten up around three and begun my early morning smoke. He looked so peaceful, laying there, dozing. I knew that he was probably awake; he had a hard time sleeping if I wasn't with him. He can be so needy sometimes. I just don't know what to do with him. At least he's cute, right? I glance over at Kenneth und Butters, who both look like they are moving a little too much to be asleep. Knowing that Kenneth is probably the most sexual of us all, I figure that he is just perving Butters up. I turn to look back at Kyle, licking my lips as I sneak predatorily towards the bed. Once at his side, I suddenly pounce, peppering his face with kisses. It isn't often that I am very...romantic...but I make an exception for Kyle on a daily basis.

He blearily opens up his eyes, looking at me oddly before he smiles and leans up to kiss me back. We rock and roll into each other for a while, before I glance up und notice we have two pairs of bedroom blues staring at us. I flip them off and snag Kyle out of the bed and drag him off into the bathroom, kissing on his neck the whole time. He would have to wear the turtleneck he brought of he wanted to hide it. I smirk at that thought; it is a nice one, for sure. I push him up against the shower once we're locked in, and while he gives a few happy moans, soon he's pushing at me.

"'Tophe...wh-what time is it?"

"Zree forty-fyve." He simply nods and bares his neck again, and I set back to licking and biting at it, leaving my own brand of love bites that look too violent for someone being 'romantic', but it's just the way I am. I've never been a very careful person. Soon, I have him pinned to the shower wall, trying to make him make noise with my knee between his legs, pushing against that growing erection. He bites back a moan and I bite harder at the junction of his neck and shoulder, trying to get a loud noise out of him. By now, I hear a softly whimpering Butters and Kenneth's making the bed creak. I begin to remove Kyle's shorts and underwear, he always dresses in his gym clothes for bed, but he tries to stop me.

"'Topheee~.." He whines, "W-we shouldn't be s-so loud...this ear-early in the morning."

"Eet es alright, Ky-el. Do not worry about eet." I whisper back, yanking down the pants as I remove my knee from the other's crotch, letting the offending clothing drop to the floor. He shakily steps out of them and I begin to nibble down his body, hands firmly on his hips. He bucks a bit when I get to his sensitive tummy, nipping and sucking the soft flesh as he begins to utter soft noises, things that let me know he's enjoying himself, even if he doesn't want to admit it. There's another thing, though, that helps me know that, and I suck it into my mouth. He cries out, as if it was totally unexpected, a moan tailing it.

"A-ahh..._Ch-Chri-Chris...._" I love it when he has to shorten my name like that, when he can't possibly wait long enough to say the whole thing before he needs more air. However, soon there's a knock at the door and I'm forced back. Kyle closes the curtain after kicking his clothes out of the shower and turns it on, probably cold.

"Yes?" I question, opening the door up a little, just enough to see Kenny's face.

"Dude, chill a little. You guys can have car sex, if Wendy can put up with Fatman. Just...let Butters sleep a little more." The blond pointed to his lover, who was shifting and whining a little. "He just got to sleep; he's had a bad dream." I nod a little and take a few steps out of the bathroom, heading back to my smoke while Kyle showers. Around five-thirty, Butters awoke again to Kyle and I sharing a smoke, and Kenny was in the shower. He snuggled down more, as if to get more comfortable and hide from us. This time, however, I had cracked the door open so that the smoke had a way to get out.

"Bootters, are you awake, now?" I question with a smile. "Kenneth es een ze zhower." As if he didn't already know. He looks at me and nods a bit, getting up. I realize, now, why he didn't want to get up. All he wore was a small pair of Hello Kitty panties. They were cute on him, but...so feminine. I snort a bit and turn my attention back on Kyle, who smiles back at me. I hear Butters and Kenneth in the shower after a bit, and lean over the table to kiss Kyle gently. I loved just kissing him...he always reacts, even if he doesn't want to.

After a while, everyone was packing up the car and truck outside, and Kyle and I caught the back seat of Kenny's car before that Fatass did. He was stuck, though, this time, riding in the bed of the truck, because Wendy wouldn't have any of his shit today. She claimed she wanted to enjoy herself with Stan, and she couldn't possibly pull it off if Eric was there. Smart girl.

Once again, we got breakfast on the road, but Kyle and I didn't eat it normally. We both at shirtless, him laying on the back seat and me between his legs, kissing and touching as we fed each other. We missed a good deal of the change in scenery, but I didn't mind, too much. Besides, Butters had plenty of pictures of it all on his camera. I spent a good deal of time just grinding on Kyle, kissing and loving him like only I could. I could tell that behind us, Wendy was trying to get some fun in with Stan as he drove, and Cartman was in the back making faces at them. That boy just never knows when to quit.

When we finally got to our destination, at about four-thirty, Kenneth took us to his cousin's house, leading the way. We finally sat up and kissed, me holding the other close as he insisted that we put on shirts. Sighing, I covered my muscles in an army green t-shirt, my ever-present dog tags hanging around my neck. I'd gotten him some, as well, detailed and perfect for him; he always wore his, as well. I bought Kyle just about whatever he wanted, but that had been a gift; something close to my own heart.

When we all got out, it was time to meet this 'Jessi' person. She was tall, for a woman, about five-ten, and blonde, like her cousin. Her eyes were bright green and her skin tanned, but not too much. She just looked like she got a lot of sun. As soon as she saw Kenny, she nearly ran out of the house and tackled him, leaping into his arms.

"Ken! It's been _fucking forever_, man!" She exclaimed, before continuing on to give each of us a flamboyant hello, except to Cartman, who got a thumb hooked at him. "What's up with Jabba the Hutt?"

"AY!" Was the only response Cartman could get out before he was pimp-slapped and everyone, including him, gasped.

"You don't talk back to me, asslicker." She snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I ain't gonna take yer shit. I did a lot of string pullin' to get you kids here, and this is how you repay me? Inconsiderate little _ass_. I hope someone shoots you for lookin' at 'em funny." And with that, the blonde vixen moved back over to Kenny, shoving his face into her multitudinous breasts. They were bigger than Wendy's, but she seemed to be a little stick, otherwise. However, nobody was going to say anything, because if _Cartman_ knew to shut up, so did everyone else.

"He's a friend, Jess, don't beat him too hard." Kenny tried with a chuckle, the only one with an ability to cope with her cruelty so quickly.

"Mm...friend of the dead, sure, but if he's an ass in _my_ house? He'll die and I can guarantee that he won't be coming back." She paused, "Alright, all, I'm Jessi, Ken's cousin. Feel free to call me Barbie; that's a nickname." And we could see why.

"Kay, Barbs, where're we stayin'?" Kenny questioned, grinning up at his cousin's huge house.

"Well, unless you guys wanna waste money, you're stuck in my house. There are only a couple rules; if you find someone you like, go with them to _their_ house. We'll be doin' tons of partying, and I'm not about to have strangers fuckin' around in my house. You guys seem pretty established, 'cept for Jabba, so we'll just put a quick rule down about that. You can fuck in the house all ya want, I don't really care. But if you guys break shit, wake me up too damn early in the morning, or interrupt me when I have friends and shit over, you'll be in separate rooms, and I'll lock you in for the night." While she said this with a smile, the whole group seemed a little tense. "Also, there is _absolutely no whining _in my house. That includes you, Tubby. One whine and you'll be sleeping in the dog house. Literally. Now, any questions?" Nobody spoke or moved. "None? Good! Let's go ahead and have a tour, then. You dolls just get your shit and come on in, I'll be waiting in the air conditioning." It _was_ rather hot out there.

Everyone grabbed their own bags, except for Stan, who had his own _and_ at least half of Wendy's. That girl brought so much, you'd think she was moving in. I had enough money on me that I figured I'd just buy or replace anything I needed to. This would be great; a month of partying. Once everyone labored up the large, flat stone steps up the swirling hill to the home, we were met in a grand entranceway by our blonde hostess.

"Alright, everyone. Raise your hands and hold them if you're a couple." Kyle and I, Stan and Wendy, and Kenny and Butters did as asked. Cartman grumbled in the corner, looking at something expensive. "Put it down, Pudgemonster. Now, is everyone cool sharing a room? Everyone's got a big bed, it's just...I don't have enough rooms for everyone to be without their sweetie." When everyone nodded, she clapped and led us down the steps to the main floor. The house was huge and seemed very well lit by the large picture windows lining it. I swear, the house was made of glass; the windows made up half of the house. It sat upon the beach, and the back yard seemed to only be open ocean. It was beautiful.

After showing everyone to their rooms, she left us to unpack and set up our individual bathrooms. Each couple had their own, and Fatman even got his own. It's unfair, yes, but at the same time wonderful; no one had to share with that slob.

For dinner, we ate wonderfully; we were all fairly stuffed.

"So, is everyone ready for bed, or would you guys and girl like to go out and see some of the night life, tonight?" Jessi asked us at dinner, standing up with a wide grin on her face. When we all voted for partying, that grin broadened. "Alright, kiddies, go get dressed. Nobody'll take you seriously like that." So we all ran off to get dressed.

When we returned, I took in the states of dress or undress everyone seemed perpetually stuck in.

Butters wore a cute little tank top that showed off his stomach a bit with a bee hoodie; complete with wings and a little plush stinger. His pants were tight and left nothing to the imagination, and flip-flops were on his feet. He had his hair done up in some impossible but cute manner, and I couldn't see it staying up like that for long. Kenny, beside and on him, wore an orange polo with a '58' poking out from the material in red numbers. His jeans clung to his legs but left you guessing around the crotch region, and he had on his favorite orange converse.

Looking Kyle over, I was surprised I wasn't all over _him_. He had a plain white t-shirt on with a vest over it, black, a fur-lined hood hanging on his back. He'd straightened out his curls with the help of Jessi, a hairdresser, and his shorts were just perfectly fit to his ass. Which I continually groped, now. I was dressed rather normally; a gray wife-beater and a pair of black jeans, stuffed into my black boots. I had my gloves, still, and we both wore our dog tags. It was perfect.

Wendy wore a black and purple striped tube-top, showing off her belly button piercing, and a short black skirt. Her tights were striped like her top, and she wore hooker boots with it; shiny and leather. Stan looked like your regular jock; black t-shirt and loose jeans. Cartman...he looked like he was trying to impress someone, but was failed miserably. His fat hung out beneath his white shirt and his pants were baggy and worn way too low. I'd guess he was trying to get Jessi to look at him, but she started laughing as soon as he made his way over to her.

"Oh, God, boy. Pull up your pants and change your shirt. You ain't gettin' in my truck like that." She didn't have a truck like what Stan had, but it was an Isuzu. It fit a bunch of people, so it worked. After Eric changed, we were well on our way; the girls sat up front, then us guys, with poor Stan and Cartman in the very back.

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**AN: Okay, so, there's the third chapter. Three chapters up in one day, wowzers! Hopefully I can keep posting like this. I'll try to work on it at school, as well as at home! Hope you guys like.**


	4. One Shot, Two Shots, Three Shots, Four

**AN: Yay, the chapter's up! Finally; it's kind of a long one, I think. ; Yay? Ew, they put Hannah Montanna on Disney Monopoly, now. D8! That's gross. Anyway, on with the story!**

**Oh! Before I forget, this chapter and the next ones were/are beta'd by Remy00! Go check out "Blond, Blue-eyed Bunnies", because it's full of win and pwn. :3**

**Warnings: Stan POV, Jew-bashing from Cartman (but you guys should be able to handle that if you watch the show), Cartman/Fat bashing as well, illegal drug use, One-sided Style**

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**Chapter Four: One Shot, Two Shots, Three Shots, Four**

I couldn't believe that Jessi conned Wendy into sitting up front with her, while I'm stuck way back here next to the Fatass. On top of that, he stinks. I think he tried collogne, but it didn't work out quite as well as he had hoped. Ugh. Everyone else got to sit together; I've got my head down because I'm sick of seeing my best friend and his boyfriend sucking face. I hear Butters giggling like mad up in his seat with Kenny, and I'm ready to punch someone. So, in an attempt to get out my anger, I hit Cartman. He whines a little, and we all wait for Jessi to jump on him. Luckily, she's too busy talking to Wendy about something. Finally, I sit there, stewing, and begin to listen to her booming voice.

"Anyway, baby, you haven't _partied_ until you've been down to Hollywood. I can get you kids in there; we'll have to plan something out, 'coz it's kinda far away..." Nothing a good day's drive couldn't cure, in her opinion. "But like, yeah. We'll totally go party where the stars go. Besides, everything's ten times better in the colored lights and thick atmosphere." She said more stuff, but I couldn't pay attention. My eyes had gone to that perfect view of Kyle's face, the slight string of saliva connecting his and Christophe's lips visible from this angle. It was the face of an angel; he looked far too perfect like that, to be completely honest. I had to shake my head when I heard Cartman smirk and make a little 'heh' noise.

"You got the hots for Jewrat, don't you?" He sneers, grinning at me darkly. "Too bad...you've got a girlfriend and he's got a possessive asshole--" Christophe looked back at us at that, and Cartman smiled cheekily and tried again, "He's got a military--" he drug out the word until the other brunet stopped glaring and went back to feasting on my best friend's face, "Brat. So...what are _you_ gonna do about it, Stan?"

"There's not much I _can_ do." I hear myself bite out, grinding my teeth to keep form punching the fat tub of lard beside me. I close my eyes and pull my iPod from my pocket, inserting the headphones to escape Cartman's stupidity and, more than likely, some kind of cutthroat plan to get rid of someone or start a new couple or something. It's no secret he likes Wendy. Hell, he likes anyone whose boobs jiggle more than his. I continue thinking of cruel things like that until we stop and find a place to park. For some reason, I expect to get out and be cold, but then I remember we're in California in the middle of summer; that does _not _equal cold. I grin as I pile out the back hatch, Cartman having a hard time climbing over the back and ending up on his fat ass with a loud whine. I pocket my iPod again and shake my dark hair around, letting some fall into my eyes as I grin a bit. I head over to Wendy and wrap an arm around her waist, kissing her lips.

"Stan...I heard the most _amazing_ things about Hollywood parties!" She tells me, and I phase out whatever it is she starts to tell me again. I do that sometimes, when I'd rather feel the experience myself but she wants to tell me all about it. I turn my attention to the other couples; I see Butters hitching a ride on Kenny's shoulders, and the first thought I have is I hope there's a high doorway and ceiling. Nobody wanted Butters to be crying at his first party. I turn to look at Christophe and Kyle; the taller one's all over my friend, kissing and nibbling his neck and ears. I then turn to Cartman, who's being bitched at by Jessi.

"Don't you fuckin' _dare_ ruin this night for me. I'mma go in there, and probably be tackled by this chick, right? If she sees you stalkin' me around and whinin', I ain't gettin' laid, so--" He cuts her off.

"You're a dike?" He questions. She sighs exasperatedly, rubbing her temples.

"Heteroflexible. I'm with this chick, Dia, and this dude, Markus. So there." She stuck out her tongue. "We share." With that, she headed up to the huge house. It was like taking Token's house and magnifying it ten or twenty times. I don't think Colorado has enough _space_ for even a single house like that. I find myself gawking at it, only to have Wendy tugging my arm.

"C'mon, Stan...we're gonna lose everyone else." And, for now, I guess, she wanted to stay as a vague group. We headed up behind Kenny and Butters, not really minding them together as we laced our hands together. Upon entering the house, which did have very high ceilings and doorways, we were all taken back. Kenny even lowered Butters into his arms and Christophe looked up. Even Cartman was speechless.

"What're you guys waitin' for?" Jessi questioned with a happy laugh, "Get to it!" She ushered us off down a long hallway, at the end of which we found a kitchen the size of Kenny's entire _house_. As we all stared, slackjawed and wide-eyed, at the huge interior, we were each presented with a shot glass full of some kind of vodka; possibly blue berry. Looking between each group member, we set off a silent countdown before we all tossed our heads back and drank like experts; except Butters, who seemed to want to drink his a little slower, and took it in two gulps. The acidic warmth burned through my mouth and throat, and the next shot that followed it I feared would drip out an acid burn in my neck and scorch a line down my body, ripping my clothes in half; I was glad when that didn't happen, though. It went one shot, two shots, three shots, four, and everyone started being a bit more friendly with one another. Even Cartman seemed more personable when you got some alcohol in him, and was currently having a calm, polite conversation with a bowl of pretzels that seemed enthralled and hooked on each and every word leaving his lips. It was kind of cute; Cartman finally found someone who could put up with him. No wonder why he was so fat. Food was all that could deal with his ritualistic cruelty.

I notice the group dispersing a bit; Kenny and Butters found their way to a living area full of sweaty, dancing bodies and worked themselves into the beat, looking more like they were having sex with clothes on. I found myself entranced by that perfect, pert bottom working itself against Kenny's crotch, and half-wished I could feel something similiar. I know it's been hard on Kenny; he still hasn't had sex with the kid, despite them dating for a month. I did hear, though, that once they tried phone sex...but Butters had been too tight to finger himself. The thought made me shudder and I turned to Wendy, who was trying to lead me over to a room further down the hallway that was wafting smoke like a fog machine. I know what she's got on her mind and we head for it. The last thing I heard could have very well described Cartman.

_Yeah, my baby's pretty as a car crash_

_Sexy as the stinger of a hornet in your arm_

_Just another modern swinger screamin'_

_Catch me if you can_

_With a cigarette in hand_

_And it's love_

_It's heavy and it hurts and she's_

_Pretty as a car crash_

_Subtle as a splinter_

_Yeah, my baby's smooth as sandpaper_

_Warm just like the winter_

_Screamin' catch me if you can_

_With a cigarette in hand _

_And it's love_

_It's heavy and it hurts and it's LOVE!_

I laugh a bit as she drags me in among the other smokers, and we find a seat on a reclining couch. The room seems to be a sort of movie room; a projector is set up in the center up at the top of the wall and there's a whole wall bare next to the door. She snuggles up to me and some amiable potheads hand us a bowl and lighter. We light up and I suck it in, holding it as long as I can. She imitates me and we blow smoke at each other playfully before handing the bowl on to the next person. We've got a ring going, now; it wasn't about to last too long with how many people were in here. All I can say is that the party's awesome so far, and we only just got here. After a couple more passes, though, Wendy's ready to get up and dance. I guess she's right;

"We haven't had enough until we've had a little more." But that could go on all night. But, now that we're bumping and grinding like this, I can't wait for a little more to carry on until it's one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, or four. Hell, I don't really wanna leave any time in the next few days. It's nice, being at a more upscale party.

Jessi comes up to us at some point, looking for 'that little asslicker', and we shrug.

"Last time I saw 'im...'e was," Wendy takes a moment to burp and smirks, before looking back at Jessi and her attractive redheaded friend. The girl's petite and nowhere near as 'blessed' with back problems as Jessi is, and she smiles and waves at me when she realizes I'm looking a little too closely at the array of straps and chains affixed to her dress. I wave back sheepishly and smile a little, as my own dark-haired angel clears her throat and starts up again. "'E was in tha kitchen...talkin' to tha pretzels." I watch as the girls are off again, heading for some kind of Cartman-bashing, I'm sure.

I managed to look between the rooms; into a hallway and into the kitchen, where the two girls we'd sent after Cartman were on either side of him, bumping at him with their hips and cooing at him. He didn't seem too upset, his hand shoving pretzels unceremoniously into his mouth as he looked from a cute redhead to a sexy blonde. Wendy turns me away, though, before I can see much else, and turns my attention on the last two people at this party I wanted to see grinding; Christophe and Kyle.

That dirty Frenchman has his hands in all the right places; he knows Kyle's got a sensitive butt (I only found out from slapping it once in football and getting a boner in return), so there's a hand there, massaging it..and then the other hand's at his stomach, playing over the tender flesh like a pro. He's got Kyle's front pinned so tightly against his that it's almost impossible to distinguish one body from the other; for a minute, I couldn't tell where Kyle ended and Christophe began. And then those lips, those rotten, horrid lips, were all over his neck, leaving more of those terrible love bites that made me sick. I hated seeing a pretty porcelain Kyle covered in welts and bruises. However, my intensive gaze seemed to capture the attention of said awful man, and he gave me a cocky smirk before whirling Kyle around and switching up their dancing a bit. I see Kyle's head turn towards us, but soon he's taken back in by that monster in grey. His hips snapped a bit more, while my best friend's rear pushed up against him tightly, hands pushing up his shirt to splay over that chest and stomach. I growl without realizing it and Wendy pulls me to face her.

Don't get me wrong, I do love her. I love her with all my heart and soul; but Kyle's the second one who gets that much love, and sometimes I can't help but feel jealous when I see him with Christophe like that. Even though I have Wendy, I get that 'Why not _me_?' feeling.

"Stannyyyy~..." She whines softly, pecking my lips and grinding suddenly against me to recollect my attention.

"Mm..?" Was the best reply I could come up with; I was still a little sore that the only person to know I kind of liked Kyle was that rotten French asshole. And since he _knew_....well, he'd torture me with it for the rest of our lives. It was at that moment that different ways to get rid of him popped into my head, and I could only catch the tail end of what Wendy had been saying.

"-And I heard they're showing Resident Evil in that room we were in earlier, and like--" That was all she needed to say before she had my whole attention directed to her.

"You know which one?"

"Marathon of all three." I snagged her hand and drug her back, walking crooked but feeling just _fine_, towards that room we had been in earlier. We plop down in our spots from last time, but the person sitting in Wendy's isn't too happy about that, so I pull her into my lap. We snuggle up and find that we made it just in time for the first appearance of the zombies. I grin wide and find a joint shoved in my face. I light up and Wendy and I share it until there's hardly anything left; the more the movie progressed, the more we inhaled.

About halfway through the second one, Kenny and Butters crashed into the recliner near the door, and everyone's attention hit them. The taller blond grins at me and shoots me a thumbs up, kind of shaking it upward and we hear a small, almost too-innocent moan from the boy in his lap.

"K-kenny..." Just the sound of it makes me realize that if Butters was attractive to me like Wendy and Kyle are, I'd give anything to have that moaning beneath _me_.

"Shh, babe...we're at the movies." I hear him whisper, "That ain't proper movie educate." Now, while we all knew what he was attempting to say (I'm pretty sure it was etiquette), a few of us still burst into laughter, and I'm pretty sure I did, too, because I felt a delicate elbow nudge against my rib cage to shut me up. By the way, I'm pretty sure I can hear that song coming in from one of the areas for dancing, and it makes me wriggle a bit in my seat, only to be elbowed again.

"Staaaaaaaaaaa~aaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" I hear her petite voice laden with annoyance. "I'm _tryin'_ to watch tha movieeeee~!" The way she squealed at the end made me chuckle and draw her head close to kiss the top of it.

"Okay, okay...take a pill an' chill wit' it." I mumble, but I don't think it sounds quite like my voice. I don't mind, of course, but still. I think weed makes my voice deeper...or something. Hell if I know, and even more Hell if I actually give a damn. Which I don't. But as I'm having this inner argument with myself, I find a noise from the side of the room Kenny and Butters are in makes me shudder and look over. They're totally distracting me from my movie.

But that look on the littler blond's face is enough for me to nearly cream. He'd been turned towards the movie screen, and Kenny continued to perv him up, touching all sorts of things that really don't make for proper movie etiquette, either, and I realize that that little moan had been the cutest thing I've ever heard. But not that much cuter than Wendy's groan of impatience; I think I have a boner or something, 'cause where she's sitting is growing rapidly uncomfortable.

"_Stan_." She says it in a whimpery whine, "Don't you wanna w-watch the mo-mo-movie?" I dunno why she's stuttering until I realize that I'm kind of rocking into her.

"Y-yeah, I do." I nod, blushing considerably.

"Then make _him_ go awayyy~!" She whines a little, and I sigh.

"Babe....there's only three ways to get ridda it." Only three I can think of.

"Then go find a _shower_." Damn, none of the ways I was thinking of involved a shower.

"You comin'?"

"_No_. I wanna watch the _movie_..." I hate it when she gets focused on movies when she's high. She'd never leave if they didn't turn off on their own.

I sigh heavily and get up, heading upstairs to find a free bathroom. Upon finding one, I lock myself in and start the shower. With a sigh, I drop my pants; I don't even know why I have a boner in the first place. I mean, gay guys aren't supposed to interest me so much. I can deal with it being from Kyle, because he's been my best friend for forever. But _Butters_? I mean, seriously, I have a girlfriend..._girl_friend. That means I like _women_. Right? Oh, I know! It's because everyone else is gettin' some and I'm lacking. Right?

...right.

I'm surprised when I hear a headboard smack into the wall beside me, and I stare at the shower wall for a moment. Then I hear something I really don't want to, and almost immediately the cold shower stops working.

"_Oh, fuck, Chris~_..."

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**AN: Okay, so, that chapter just didn't want to end, I swear. I'm glad I finally got it to, though. :3 I'd also like to give a special thanks to my one reviewer, Remy00! 8D I'm glad I actually have one! 8DD**


	5. Throw Caution To The Wind

**AN: Yay! Chapter five! I'm getting through these pretty fast, but I've found I need to if I want to actually finish a story...so I hope you guys don't mind. :3 Anyway, here's chapter five. I couldn't decide who's POV to do it in, but I do know that now it's getting challenging. I'm going to be posting events during each other, so like...here goes nothing, right? ; **

**Also, another chapter beta'd by the amazing Remy00! Go thank her by giving her reviews on her story. :3**

**Warnings: Yaoi SEX, slight songfic style, Kyle POV, one-sided Style, prossibly (probably and possibly) some incorrect French. I'm using Babylon as my translator, and I don't know how good it is...**

**Song is Katie Kutthroat by Pink Spiders**

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**Chapter Five: Throw Caution To The Wind**

_Hey Katie Kutthroat, We're in the same boat_

I feel a body slip up behind me as I dance on the polished wooden floor, my sneakers abandoned somewhere in the truck for socked toes. The music is erratic and beating against my eardrums, forcing my body to move against the one behind it. After Stan and Wendy left and everyone else wandered off, I had found my way to the dance floor while Chris made a mad dash out to the truck; he'd forgotten his precious pack of cigarettes and couldn't go on without them. It seemed like it had been a long time since he'd left me, and I had taken up dancing to pass the time while I waited for him to return to me. Now, as I ground back into this person, the heavy, loamy scent of dirt and smoke hit me (it was like his perpetual scent, even when he'd been out of the dirt and holes he dug for a job) and I immediately knew who it was before he spoke.

"'Ello, zere, Ky-el. Deed jou want to dance?"

_Swingin' for the fence, but we're swingin' with a short rope_

I nod slowly as he gives me a fairly hard grind; I moan without thinking about it. He knows I'm sensitive back there, jerk. I give him a half-hearted slap in the face that barely makes a sound; I'm the only one he'd let hit him, I'm sure. Unless, maybe, it was Butters. Or Kenny, but only if they were joking, or maybe just Butters in general, because he couldn't hit his way out of a wet paper bag. My hand is up by his head, now, mostly to try and balance out my fuzzy body. It almost feels like I'm moving without the A-OK from my mind, and my hips just bump and grind back into his for a while. He says dirty things to me in French as I purr gently and wish I had taken a more...intense French class. He always offered to teach me the language, but then he'd never tell me what it was he was making me say. Always said it was a surprise. One night, though, I had him spell out for me what it was so I could look it up on my translator. It ended up being something akin to, _Oh, 'Tophe, gimme that big, huge cock_. Teach _me_ to learn French with_ his_ help.

"Kyle, vous sale petite chose, pousser harder...come sur, vous pouvez le faire..." His voice is like dark, rich chocolate and I feel myself melt, pushing back harder as I find myself flipped around in his arms.

_I know there's no hope, we're only scapegoats_

He's holding me so close that I don't think there's a way for one to begin and end so the other can have his own beginning. One hand's massaging my rump, which, usually I'd attempt to swat him away, but his lolling French words are rapidly making me forget that I have arms, except for the fact that they are now wrapped around his neck. Another hand I find on my tender stomach; he knows I can't turn him away, now. My cheeks are rivaling my hair in color, and then those lips, rough and slightly scarred up from some mission or another, are on the sensitive, pale column of my neck. I could cream right now. He looks up a moment, and whispers something else in my ear I don't quite catch but I think it had something to do with Stan and Wendy.

"Que diriez-vous nous donner Stan et Wendy un petit spectacle?"

_Living in a world full of hypocrites and turncoats_

He brings me even closer, and now we aren't dancing so much as just hard grinding. I feel my hips pressed too close and I have to gasp for breath, my nails digging into the back of his neck. I turn my head to try and see what he was talking about, but my eyes are so glassy from the alcohol and his constant touches that I can't seem to see that far away, even with my contacts in. Christophe strongly inforced colorless contacts with me, because he's always telling me how beautiful the green in my eyes is. Once, I remember he told me that if he didn't want me to live as badly as he does, he'd gouge my eyes out and kill me and keep them in a jar on his bedside table. As gross and macabre as that sounds, I found it kind of sweet; that was a Christophe compliment. He often says things that make people second-guess his love for me, but I know that I'm up there on his 'List of Needs'. Stan is always insisting, for example, that 'Tophe's only using me to get some ass. I've told him time and time again that I'm not loose and if he wanted ass that bad, he could probably get it much easier from Kenny. After all, before Butters, you never had to even _think_ about dating Kenny. Stan never manages to get past that before I smirk and know I've won. He'll stammer a bit, but he never gets out a good argument.

Except...there was that one time when he said something about Christophe not liking blonds. That was slightly valid, and then he just had to say that I was the only redheaded male for miles. When I pointed out that it wasn't true, he said 'naturally'. I pointed out that one kid Ike went to school with. Stan just lobbied back that I was the only one with a near-appropriate age. Only everyone knows that Chris is nineteen, while I'm still seventeen. At least it isn't too bad, right? And I'll be eighteen soon, so we'd be totally legal then. It isn't like he's that much older; which Stan also tried to push at me once. However, soon I'm jarred out of these thoughts when Chris spins me around, and suddenly he's on my rump again. I moan softly, eyes closed, now, head falling back onto his shoulder. He's so damn tall, but I can hit that, at least.

_But if you believe the mirror holds the most beautiful picture_

I hear someone stomp off and I'm sure it's Stan; he's never really approved of any relationship of mine. He always gets so jealous, even when he has Wendy. At least, by now, he's discovered that talking to your girlfriend helps. I never really figured out why he's so protective of me, but I figure he's just trying to be a good friend. But when I manage to catch Christophe's face in my line of vision, the look on his face seems to show that he knows more than I do.

"Chris...what's up?" I question softly, head tilting. I just hope he isn't stuck in French mode. I sigh a breath of relief when he speaks the best English he can.

"Jour friend joost...left, Ky-el. 'E seemed upset." I frown.

"Well, should--ahh..." He snags my waist again and holds me close.

"Let'z go get anozer dreenk. Zen we could go find a room and zmoke." That did sound nice and relaxing. I do know, though, that 'find a room and smoke' doesn't have the same meaning it would to everyone else. When we find a room, we'll usually have sex, first, but he doesn't like to say that because he doesn't like saying 'making love', but he knows we don't just fuck...so he says 'smoke', instead, since we always do that after. I nod and he lifts me up bridal style, not even stumbling on his way to the kitchen. That's another good thing about 'Tophe. He has good drunk legs. I think it's from all of his experience.

_We'll make ashes of our mistakes and we'll throw caution to the wind_

Instead of using shot glasses, this time, Chris nearly dumped some of the remaining blueberry Vodka into my mouth, onto my chin and down my neck to my chest. He leans down and laps at it from my lips, making me purr out a moan. We drink like this for a while, the two of us sharing my mouth and soon I'm dripping with alcohol. My shirt is soaked and dripping from the back, and it's only been a little while. The next hour is all a blur; I remember tripping down stairs to look for a room. There were none open, but we spent some time down there watching Finding Nemo, for no real reason. Then tripping back upstairs to find a quiet place on the ground floor. Quiet? At a party? Yeah, right. So we finally end up ascending the stairs and Christophe is intent on beating another couple into the room right next to the bathroom for some reason. Once in there, he locks the door behind us and tosses me onto the bed, making it clack against the wall. I hear the shower running in the other room, but we choose to ignore it for more favorable activities. He crawls on top of me and bites at my stomach, catching the skin between his teeth and making me cry out.

"_Oh, fuck, Chris~_!" My toes curl and I'm even more at attention than I was a few minutes ago. I find my hips grinding up against his chest as he works his nose, then his chin up under my shirt to work it up under my own chin. I know he hasn't shaved in a few days and the prickly hairs poking at me leave a breathy laugh on my lips.

_Dear Katie Kutthroat, here is your price quote_

I finally tug my shirt up and toss it wetly to the floor, gasping and lifting up a little from the bed; his dangerously sharp teeth have found my nipple and the sting feels so good as he tugs it a little. He knows how rough he can be with me; this wouldn't be the first time we've done this, and he's spent plenty of time carefully gauging my reactions to each and every thing he loves to do to me. He uses things to make me squirm in public, mostly because he's mean but partially because he wouldn't want to make me scream in the supermarket. He knows what to do to me and when to do it to get me to behave just how he wants me to, and I'm not all that upset by that. A sharper tug brings me back to the moment and I nearly scream; that nipple's gonna be bruised tomorrow, I can tell. I don't so much mind the bruises and such he leaves on my body, as long as I can hide them from my mom until I'm living with him. As soon as I can get out on my own, I plan to join him in his underground abode and spend my nights with him, days working and going to school. It'll be great, that's for sure.

He pulls off of that nipple and moves to it's twin, but this one gets the lips and tongue, instead of the teeth. I guess he doesn't want them both too sore to handle tomorrow. Soon, though, he trails up to my neck to press a kiss just beneath my chin, before he moves back downward, pressing his lips delicately to my stomach before taking a bite, and that one, I think, might just scar. I see little rolls of skin scraped up against his teeth, and when he pulls back to look at his handywork, he's shocked to find he left such a dark mark behind. I can see it on his face, and when he looked up to mine, I'm sporting a grin.

"'Tophe, me donnent votre grand, énorme bite." I smirk, licking my lips and he only grins. When he crawls up my body, I feel him tugging down my pants and undies.

"I 'ave taught jou well, Ky-el." I hear him breath into my ear before he kisses me tenderly. "Je vais vous donner ce que vous voulez, du sucre."

_Appraisal of a feeling I've included in a love note_

He lovingly pushes his clothed erection against my hip, and I blush a little, working at his belt and then his pants. "Boots." I mumbled, and he was immediately at work slipping them off, and then his jeans. He likes to go commando, which really isn't surprising. He climbs back on the bed, after shedding his shirt, as well, and our matching dogtags clink together softly, followed by a throaty chuckle from my love.

"Je vous aime, Kyle." He whispers in my ear, nibbling on the lobe as he brings three fingers to my lips. I suck them greedily, laving each one seperately and being sure to coat each in saliva. I also know, though, that this kind of play drives him nuts. To this day, I have not been able to give him a blow job, mostly because he finds the need to rush me a bit. I don't like being rushed, so I've never given him that pleasure. But I'll suck his fingers all day. "Tease." He adds on after a moment. His gruff breathing in my ear makes me shudder, and soon he's ready to apply the saliva-slicked fingers to some actual work. I grin when I realize that he's finally going south, careful not to waste the spit before I feel one finger inside me. He's always so surprisingly curteous with stretching me and everything. Even though he's got me stretched perfectly, he always likes to start slow and work up.

I moan appreciatively when he gets a second in and begins to scissor; I've always loved those rough, calloused fingers. It's amazing to me that they can deal so much pain in his 'job', and yet he's so gentle with me all the time. He treats me almost like a princess; but he realizes I don't want to be a "girl". I just like to be dominated. By him, speciffically. I groan as a third is entered; that's about right, and he always likes to be sure that I can handle him; when he said 'big, huge cock', he hadn't really been lying. That thing even has some /weight/ to it, and if I wanted to measure it...I'd say he tips the normal scales. Must be all of his manual labor.

_I sketched it in smoke left in your throat_

Soon, it's out with the fingers and he's slopping all the pre-cum he can get on that thing, and I wait as patiently as I can, just watching the expressions on that face. He looks so much different without a cigarette hanging from his lips. I'm just glad he doesn't smoke _during_ sex anymore; he tried it once, and dropped a cherry just off to the side of my collarbone. I still have a scar from that. I shudder, soon, moaning loud and getting a resonating bang from the shower behind us. I blink blearily at Christophe, but he just gives me that dirty grin and leans forward to kiss me as he slowly pushes all the way in. Once he's seated all the way in, I'm gasping and moaning rather loudly and blatantly, and I think whoever's in the shower doesn't want to hear it, because they keep banging on the wall. It doesn't sound like sex, either, because I know what shower sex sounds like.

But let's not go into that. I blush a bit, but can't help the moans; Christophe's _right on it_. He always is, and then he'll wait on it, giving these measley little thrusts that make me see stars and cry out. It isn't until I beg, because he taught me that in French as well, that he'll start to give me _good_, heaving humps. Those are my favorite, after all; when he _really_ gets into it. Then again, Chris is only fun _when_ he really gets into something. Scrabble, for instance, can be boring until one of us starts putting down naughty things. However, he still isn't giving me what I want, so finally I let loose with what he wants me to.

"Christophe~ fourrez moi bien, merci! Vous savez que j'aimerais faire quelque chose pour votre bite, je vous prie!" This seems to work, and he starts to hammer into me, but at my French words, I get even more of a reaction from whoever's in the shower. After a bit, I'm ready to hit the wall, too. "Nngh...T-tophe..." I whimper, "St-stop a sec.." he does as I ask, even though I can tell from the last, _really really_ hard thrust he gives me before he does stop, that he is unhappy and I glare at the wall.

_So you could never question the intentions of what I wrote_

"What th-the Hell is their problem?" I question in a hiss, pouting a little. Chris just gives me one of his evil little smirks and a knowing smile before dragging us both against the bottom of the bed.

"Jou want to shoot zem oop?" I just know that he knows somthing I don't...but I just nod and play along. He's standing now, with my legs up over his shoulders, and he leans down to kiss whatever he can reach while he starts up a hard, fast, demanding pace. I'm making much louder noises, and now our shower-person's shut up. The shower even shut off. After a few more moments, Christ crawls back on the bed with me and we finish up, and I feel just amazing. Floaty and foreign to my own body for a while. After a bit, we clean up with his shirt and he stuffs it in his pocket, and we head out of the room.

_And if you thought this was over, let the distance bring us closer_

We leave the room after getting dressed again and I realize that now my vest has been sexed upon. At least it isn't messed up. I smile a bit in the other's arms, and we head on down to catch the last of the Resident Evil movies. I had heard they were playing in a room on the main floor. When we get back, Wendy's sitting on Stan's lap and he doesn't look pleased. Christophe picks the spot directly by him and sits me up on his lap, and kicks up the recliner part of the couch so he can get more comfortable.

"Have fun, Kyle?" Stan asks bitterly, and I blink.

"Huh?" I must have looked totally lost, because he turned a bit and punched Christophe square in the shoulder. While I'm still trying to figure out what's going on, Christophe merely murmurs something back at the other, a throaty chuckle on his lips.

"Oonloocky beetch."

_Let's take matches to the middle of beginning_

_middle_

_end_

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**AN: Alright, that's the fifth chapter. :3 I hope you guys enjoyed it. First in the series of sex scenes to come. :3**


	6. It's Not a Party When You're Gone

**AN: Okay, here's to chapter six! This will be the Kenny chapter, and then icky Cartman. ; Yes, I honestly don't like Cartman. He makes me angry. D8 I would have liked to leave him out, but "Famous Four" doesn't exclude him, so meh. ; I guess I'll just have to be stuck with him. Anyway, I enjoy bashing him just as much as the next person, so here we go.**

**Warnings: Yaoi, ILLEGAL substance abuse, this comes AFTER chapter five. The events after it...because the story needs to move on. :3 Kenny POV.. :3 That's the whole reason the times are off for his chapter.**

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**Chapter Six: Don't You Forget It's Not A Party When You're Gone**

Butters couldn't have been more breathtakingly addictive tonight if he tried. He danced well, for a 'sheltered' kid (I bet he's watched at least a little MTV in the morning), and that little body had be wanting more like crazy. We've dated for a whole month, now, and I'm seriously wishing we could speed it up a little. He said he'd have sex with me when he was ready, but when asked when that would be...he said he didn't know. I don't want to rush him and ruin this, because...I may not admit it, but everyone knows he's good for me. I haven't been sleeping around since we got together, I can kind of watch my language, I've...okay, well, I haven't really done that. Drugs and alcohol are the fun parts to life; I don't care if I die young from them, I want to try everything at least once. Which was what partying was about, right? And this house was huge; downstairs, there was a monstrous room that was set up kind of like a warehouse rave; I've only been to one and have kicked myself for forever for not trying E. However, down in this 'rave', I'm pretty sure there was some floating around. I'd drug Butters down here with me to check it out, and now we were both jumping and glowing to the music, having a good ol' time.

He'd dance on me for a while, driving my body insane before I couldn't help myself anymore. I took his hand and led him over to the guy giving out these cute little pills with lightning bolts stamped on them. I got myself one, and Butters took one, too; probably because they looked like some kind of candy. I would have warned him, but the alcohol in my system was slowing my reaction times to things. All things except one; I was already pretty hard and my mind still didn't understand why. Well, it got the basics, but it couldn't seperate out any different incidents, that was for sure. Well, needless to say, we hopped back into the writhing and churning dancefloor, now so tightly pressed to one another that I can feel his breath on my chest, through my shirt. It's delicious, and I suddenly find myself paying more attention to that than anything else he's doing to me. It doesn't take long before I begin to rub his back, bringing him closer, and suddenly I feel something hot and wet in the crotch of his pants, as well as hear a loud moan. Blinking a little, I look down and he's got the most adorable expression on his face.

His lips are wet, obviously slicked by his own saliva, his eyes are lidded and he looks like he's zeroed in on an unbuttoned button on my shirt, and when he reaches a hand up to button them, he suddenly cries out again and I feel him blast his own pants. That's got me harder than anything, and I start to realize that I, myself, am addicted to rubbing the back of his hoodie. The fabric feels amazing against my hand, and that might be something hardening me up. I grin a bit and push my chest close to his mouth, dropping an order. "Suck." He finds my nipple after a moment and, instead of sucking like I'd told him, he bites down and I cream, just as I expected I would; wailing out happily and bumping up against Butters' hips. I suddenly get an idea and clamp our hips together, shaking while we grind into each other. It doesn't take long for us both to come again, and I'm suddenly so glad I could get off with him. I grab his hand and tug him with me, and feeling my wet pants against myself has me hard in seconds. We just make it to a couch on the same level a few rooms over, and I nearly tackle him onto the couch. We're touching and grinding, all feelings experimental in this new state. His voice is perfect as it leaves his little lips like that.

"K-kenny...wh-aahh!-at's wr-wrong with us?" He sounds both frightened and excited, and I like that tinge to his voice. I kiss his lips and it buzzes straight downwards; we both come once again.

"We...we took E, Babe.." I whisper back, kissing over the skin of his face as light as I dare. It's almost like I fear that touching him too hard will make him shatter beneath me, but not enough touch will shift him further away. "Far as I know, it just makes you unbearably horny for a while." Which I certainly didn't mind having Butters like that, I must say. Little did I know that the other effects would be on us soon. As we bumped and ground to the music, letting ourselves get lost to the beat we could still hear, as well as coming every so often, he began to burn up, but he was shaking like he was in the icebox. I clamped my body over his, and we lay there, still wriggling around a bit to get off, for the good part of the next three hours. Jessi was upon us, soon, though; she said it was about five AM and that she needed us to 'get our asses up'. When she realized our current states, though, she sighed.

"If you two get cum on _my_ car, I'll make you lick it all off and then I'll skin you both alive." She's such a loving cousin. We both somehow manage to get upstairs, and into the truck. We sit in the back seats. Stan and Wendy are already in the front of the back seats, and Kyle and Christophe have filled up the trunk-region. That leaves poor Jessi stuck up front with a drunk Cartman, who still seemed pretty chummy with the now-empty pretzel bowl. I think he's sexually attreacted to large orange bowls filled with crunchy snacks, even after he's depleted it all.

Butters ends up in my lap and we continue to grind and touch, making sure not to cover the seat in man-juice. The ride home is slow and shaky; I can't tell, but I figure either the truck is dying or Jessi's more smashed that I am. Finally, we lurch into her garage and it's everyone out, slipping into the house unceremonious for sleep or far more enjoyable activities. Chris nearly has to carry Kyle into the house because he was so tired. Wendy drug stan and Cartman couldn't seem to find any doors; he hit walls, instead, whining about how the doors had gone missing, only to be hit and pushed up the steps into the house and to his room by Jessi. Butters and I could _easily_ find the doors, but we prefferred hitting the walls, anyway.

The two of us were still hyped up and slamming into things a good thirty minutes later, after everyone had gone to bed. We wanted to move, we wanted to groove, and we wanted to _party_. However, Jessi had to come and ruin our high by strapping us to the bed with bungee cables, so we were stuck just touching and moaning until we finally knocked off into sleep. That was around, oh...early-thirty in the morning. Something like that. I never was good at reading clocks; even digital ones bother me with how bad my eyes are. You try dying every day for a good nine years and tell me how good _your_ eyesight is.

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**AN: Okay, short chapter, I know. My brain was hurting and it took me long enough to do this. Once again, beta'd by Remy, and like...I'm really trying to catch up with her. :3 I hope to get out the seventh chapter sometime soon, as well, with or before her. :3**


	7. She's A Bomb and You Lit the Fuse

**AN: So, this is the seventh chapter already...my first time writing so much Cartman. This is going to take place on the Friday after their arrival. The day is more important than the party, for now, so you get that. :3**

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**Chapter Seven: She's a Bomb and You Lit the Fuse**

"Kenny! What the fuck are you doin' in thar!" Kenny had been in the bathroom with Butters for over an hour! It was nothing but ridiculous. I pounded on the door again and finally a disgruntled, wet, naked Kenny answered the door. He growled a little.

"Cartman...there are like...five bathrooms in this place, and you don't have to use Jess's bathroom every damn time you have to piss. You _do_ have your _own_ bathroom, yanno." He didn't seem happy. I shrugged.

"Toilet's clogged."

"Ew.." Oh, he was used to it. "Then go piss in your shower!" And _he_ said _I_ was gross.

"No _way_, Kennay." That was lame and such a poor-person idea. "If you don't lemme in, I'll find a way to piss on Butters." I suddenly decide that was a bad idea. I've never seen Kenny so angry before; those blue eyes seemed to light red and I felt the banister of the stairs against my back.

"I've died over one thousand times, Cartman. That means I know over a thousand ways to _kill you_. If you _ever_ touch my Buttercup, I'll make sure to use as many as possible on you in one sitting. Got it?" The more he spoke, the further over the first floor I felt my helpless body slide.

"Kennay, Kennay, don't be so ridiculous..." I try to calm him. "Ah won't touch Butters..." Apparently he thinks me insincere and I feel my feet scrambling for the floor. "Ah WON'T TOUCH BUTTERS! AH WON'T TOUCH BUTTERS! AH PROMISE, AH PROMISE!" He's got me bellowing, now, and I cry out when he lets me down and punches be square in the jaw. I reel onto the carpet and he goes back into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and heading back into Butters, I bet.

My cries seemed to have hit every asshole in the house; Jewrat's boyfriend is smirking at me from the top of the stairs, about three feet away.

"Jou know, Fatman, eef I would 'ave done eet, jou'd be dumb _and_ dead." He says nonchalantly before running along to his precious Rat. I growl and head off to use _their_ bathroom, but by the time I get there, each and every bathroom is taken, except mine. I'm stuck pissing in my shower. I hate these assholes.

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**AN: Short chapter, I know...but this incident works, I believe. :3 Next chapter will be longer. :3**


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